


Lost in Translation

by silly_fitz



Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Accidental Engagement, Canon-typical combat and injury, Carja Sundom culture, Cultural Miscommunication of the Romantic Kind, Ends beyond the post-credit scene so spoilers for those, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Starts Post-Frozen Wilds DLC main story but Pre-Deep Secrets of the Earth, The Five Love Languages
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:15:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23980657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silly_fitz/pseuds/silly_fitz
Summary: A well-meaning gift leads to a cultural misunderstanding.Or, Aloy accidentally gets herself engaged to Talanah Khane Padish in the eyes of the Carja Sundom. Shenanigans ensue, but they find love along the way.
Relationships: Aloy/Talanah Khane Padish
Comments: 73
Kudos: 270
Collections: Kudos folder





	1. Traditions

Aloy shifts in discomfort, tuning out the fraudulent Shaman lecturing her through her Focus. The fight against the Rockbreaker and Thunderjaw at the Branded Shore had left her with scratches, aches, and a longing for sleep that she can’t treat and indulge until she’s back in Meridian.

It certainly didn’t help that Sylens’ remarks were more cutting than usual after she delayed her foray to the ruins underneath Sunfall for a third time. He grew angry at the fact that she travelled all the way to the Shadow Carja capital ‘just to get distracted and help the first miserable urchins that ask for help.’

What’s important is that a little girl was now being given urgent life-saving treatment. An innocent man was also saved from death and is now free to return home to Meridian. But of even greater political impact was her mission right now — smuggling the Queen Dowager Nasadi and Prince Itamen to the safety of Holy Meridian’s walls and delegitimizing the Shadow Carja’s governance.

Despite the urge to rebut Sylens, Aloy couldn’t even give him a dose of her usual snark as he ranted through her Focus. Since she was on a boat with other people including a spy and a sleeping prince, she settled for temporarily tucking her Focus into a pouch at her hips and enjoyed the reprieve from his shady nagging. 

Aloy was the one risking her ass to find answers, and she’ll do it at her _own_ pace. Sylens can wait in whichever dark hole he was hiding in. After he led her straight to HADES last time, she really wasn’t looking forward to another mission with him behind the scenes.

Before long, they make it across the Lake of Daybrink and arrive at the Brightmarket Docks just in time for sunrise. With relief, Aloy and her companions watch as Avad welcomes his brother and step-mother, before the Sun King turns to her.

“Aloy, it seems I see your influence everywhere. You’ve done so much for the Sundom, and it will always be appreciated. You have my thanks. May you walk in the light.” Avad turns away with a smile, now guiding Itamen and Nasadi further into the protection of his personal guard. He then pauses, seemingly remembering something.

“Oh, and Aloy? You have my warmest congratulations.” With a final smile, he walks away with his family.

“I spend two years setting this up and the redhead gets the credit,” Vanasha playfully complains, waving goodbye at the tiny prince who had taken a quick peek back at them.

“I’m still getting paid, right?” Three-Toed Huadiv narrowed his eyes at Vanasha. 

“You’ll be lucky if I let you live.”

She turns to Aloy and looks her in the eyes. “I couldn’t have done this without you. When we meet again, I’ll give you a proper thanks. I promise.” As Vanasha takes her leave, Huadiv keeps at her tail to pester her about payment.

At this point, the adrenaline of the fight and the alertness she kept primed against potential Snapmaw attacks during their ride have long since faded. Now that she knows her bunk at the Hunters Lodge is but a few minutes of sprinting and an elevator ride away, all her aches and the insistent pull of her eyelids to close seem that much more intense.

But wasting precious daylight when there’s so much left for her to do to prepare for Sunfall seems unwise. Medicinal provisions and wire for her ammunition were running dangerously low, and so were her shards. 

Aloy steels her resolve with an internal sigh. Sleep can wait: it seems trade and treatment should be her priority.

She walks outside of Brightmarket and towards the nearby river. Maybe it's just her tiredness, but the usual whispers about her from the busybodies seem a little more obvious than they normally were, even though there were much less people around. In the early light of the mostly risen dawn, the comments seem less like petty dismissal of her abilities as a ‘savage’ and more like just unsubtle gossiping, though she doesn’t bother to listen closely. The stares at her back feel like they last longer, too. She can’t be sure, but she might’ve sworn that one of them directed a quick ‘Congratulations’ to her.

After tiredly collecting some ridgewood she comes across in her search for blooms of hintergold and salvebrush, Aloy goes ahead and dips into the river to clean out her wounds and bathe. 

Sighing in relief after washing out what felt like buckets of sand off her and out of her hair, she takes the chance to try and launder her clothes and armor, too. The Nora outfit she had been wearing during her trip to Sunfall — and her subsequent trips to the Greenclimb and the pass near Branded Shore — felt crusty with machine oil and blood. Whether her own, from bounty hunters, or the Eclipse, the dark stains can’t be distinguished anymore.

She bandages her remaining wounds and changes into her light Blazon to help deal with the Sundom’s heat. Enjoying the sensation of being clean and refreshed, she ignores the growling of her stomach and presses on. She doesn’t have many shards to put towards food right now.

As she approaches the lower village, the sun sits higher in the sky and traders have mostly settled in their posts. Workers and families were beginning to mill about, going about their business, but some of them were pausing to look at her and even subtly point, their indistinct murmurs seemed to add to the usual din of bustling trade.

How unusual. After earning some of the lower village’s goodwill through helping Kindiv’s group and Nasan, these folks normally just nodded in acknowledgement or left the ‘savage Nora’ alone.

Brushing off their strange attention with the ease of a lifetime of being outcast, she heads deeper into the village center to trade her lenses and hearts for materials and shards.

She sells a pouch full of the slagshine and desert glass recovered from her recent clashes with the Eclipse and the bounty hunters, and adds her remaining five Thunderjaw hearts and a few Stormbird lenses to the trade for shards.

Then she tries to buy several bundles of wire, but unexpectedly, the merchant refuses to take her payment and even adds a few more bundles to her haul.

“No need for that today, child,” the merchant says as she pushes Aloy’s shards back into her hand. “Consider it our congratulatory well-wishes.”

Aloy tilts her head. “For what?” 

She didn’t think her involvement with the rescue of Prince Itamen had already been made public. It was just past sunrise; knowing the Carja and their ceremonial theatrics, the formal announcement of Itamen’s return would be made at high noon. 

The merchant laughs. “Ah, youth. Always think they’re sneakier than a Stalker at night. Now, now, you know very well what it’s for, and I’m sure you have more important things to do than talk with this old woman, young Thrush. May the Sun light your way,” she kindly dismisses Aloy.

“Uh, thank you… You’re... very generous.” Before the situation can get any stranger, she takes her resources and walks away.

Weird, but in no way unwelcome. Her no-longer-worryingly-light bag of shards certainly isn’t complaining despite the burgeoning worry at the pit of her stomach.

She makes a few more exchanges, awkwardly acknowledging a few more unexplained congratulatory comments, until a bit before high noon. 

As she steps out of the Great Elevator, she sees Vanasha seated at a local eatery, waving at her to come by.

“Little huntress! I didn’t think I’d see you this soon.” 

She gestures to the seat in front of her. “This is no proper thanks nor congratulations, but come sit! The least I can do for now is buy you a meal. Najeed!” Vanasha calls the young server. “I would like your finest plate and ale for my new friend here!”

Hungry and tired, she takes a seat in front of Vanasha, and before long, wooden bowls of steaming maize rice and tender slices of boar meat, along with a pint of cool corn ale are soon laid out before her by a man around Varl’s age.

“Is it really Aloy of the Nora? The Machine Rider who saved Meridian and His Radiance from the criminal Dervahl!” Najeed claps once in delight and turns to face Aloy.

“It is our honor to provide you a meal. Any time you pass by our humble establishment during your extensive travels, please don’t hesitate to ask for a seat at our table and the best roasted boar you’ll ever find in the Sundom. Free of charge! Consider this our congratulatory gift, honored Thrush.” As he takes his leave and accepts Aloy’s awkward thanks, Najeed bows his head with a smile.

“But this was going to be my treat,” she called after Najeed playfully. “Ah,” she sighed with fake disappointment. “Now I have to do something else for her.”

Aloy hums as she drinks in the sight and scent of the food. It’s been so long since she last sat down and had a proper, unrushed meal, but her question can’t wait any longer. “Vanasha, can that ‘proper thanks’ of yours take the form of information?”

She barely registers the spy’s nod as she starts chewing the tender, smoky meat with delight.

“Meridian has been driving me crazy with the whispers! Why are they congratulating me? I was just here about two weeks ago and some were still calling me savage. Now I’m getting discounts, free meals, and well-wishes since this morning!” 

“Can’t have been for Itamen’s return… Don’t Marad and his priestly folk announce important news at high noon?” Aloy asks as she continues eating. The fragrant maize rice perfectly accompanied the flavorful meat.

“You really have to ask? Because Sunhawk Talanah Khane Padish accepted your Gift!”

Aloy raises a brow. She gave Talanah a modified Powershot bow almost two weeks ago. There’s no reason it should be on the lips of what felt like every villager here after so long.

Vanasha continues speaking as she adds meat to a piece of flatbread. “It’s unconventional, rare, and — dare I say it — very sweet, so the village women and even the noblewomen have been swooning and wagging their tongues since it happened. It was the first thing I heard about since I got off our boat.”

“And why is _that_ so gossip worthy? She’s a hunter who uses bows, so I gave her a bow. It’s just another weapon,” she says, just barely finishing chewing before getting the words out.

A beat of silence. Aloy looks up from her food to see that Vanasha has stilled — a stunned expression on her young face. She has only known the spy for barely two days, and yet Aloy gets the feeling that the concept of ‘surprise’ and ‘Vanasha’ rarely occur together.

“Just a bow?” Vanasha repeats in shock. “So you didn’t mean it?!”

“What, the gift? I meant it. I wasn’t expecting Talanah to owe me a boon or anything, if that’s what you mean. She’s an admirable, skilled warrior and I know that bow would serve her well. She’s been through a lot and I thought a practical gift would give some cheer, that’s all,” Aloy says around bites of her food.

Vanasha slowly lowers the bread she was about to bite into. “But… you crafted it. With your own hands. To match your own bow. And presented it to her at the Hunters Lodge!” Her voice grows increasingly incredulous, as if there was some point to her statement that Aloy just couldn’t grasp.

“I did. Why is that such a big deal? It- it wasn’t some insult or… or cultural misstep was it? I didn’t… unintentionally supplant her to become the new Sunhawk, did I? Is that why they’re congratulating me? That’s not- ” Aloy falters and takes a deep breath.

“Look. I just… I knew Redmaw damaged her bow a while back. I wanted to get her an even better one, but I didn’t have enough Bluegleam and shards to buy another Adept Banuk-crafted bow just like that. Buying mine just barely left me enough shards for arrows to catch my own food. Luckily the woods around Song’s Edge had the materials, and my- Rost, he taught me to make my own weapons. Since I had my own, it was easy enough to copy and improve one.”

“I just... wanted to help.” Aloy shrugged.

“Oh, little huntress… surely by now you’ve noticed that the people of the Sundom have a tendency to hold strength and prowess in high regard.”

“...When it comes to men, at least,” Aloy mutters.

“You’re not wrong,” laughs Vanasha. “But in this case, related actions hold a lot of meaning for us Carja. Gifting a weapon, for one, means that you want the person to be protected even when you’re not there.”

Aloy nods, but she’s still confused. “Well, I do want Talanah to be safe. So?”

“That you made the gift yourself means that a part of _you_ went into that bow with the intention of protecting her. That the bow is better than her previous one, and modified to her fighting style says that you know her very well and that you trust her skill.”

“Again, so? I _do_ trust her skill. We did take down a Thunderjaw together. Still not getting the point of all the whispers.”

“Yes, defeating a fearsome machine of legend such as Redmaw with her has already proven that you trust each other to have your back. It is also an omen that bodes well for… _future endeavors_ with her, as your partnership has overcome such a great obstacle with such ease.”

Aloy snorts. “‘Such ease’? Nothing easy about Redmaw.” She takes another bite.

“Regardless, you two, alone together facing an enemy like that and _winning_? It’s symbolic of the Sun’s favor for a great marriage: You two can face anything as long as you’re together.”

Alarmed at the mention of marriage out of the blue, Aloy chokes a bit on her rice, coughing.

Vanasha continues without even blinking at her distress. “And since you presented the bow to her at the Lodge, at the seat of her command with her people watching, what you did became a public acknowledgement of your esteem. You told everyone there that the Sunhawk is someone you hold dear to your heart — a person precious enough to you that you would take great pride in declaring your Intention.”

Aloy’s eyes water a bit at the edges as her coughing fit continues. As she gasps and tries to take a more controlled drink of her ale, she turns a wild-eyed, confused stare to the spy in front of her.

Vanasha sighs. How much more _obvious_ can she make this? “You gave the Sunhawk a Gift of Intention. You invited her to be your mate. We are congratulating you on your — apparently unintended — engagement.”

Aloy sputters. “E-engagement? It hasn’t even been a season since I met her!” 

Toned shoulders give an elegant shrug. “It is not uncommon for Carja nobles to meet on the day of their wedding. That you actually get along with her is already auspicious. Tongues might wag more since a Khane Padish heir would normally be expected, but since you’re both women…”

“Heir?!” Aloy shakes her head before she can even begin to think about that. But then she catches the last few words of Vanasha’s explanation and stiffens.

Suddenly anxious, Aloy rubs her hand across her tired eyes. “Obviously, this is…” she waves her hands vaguely. “Um. Not really going to happen. It’s all a misunderstanding! A-and I’ve brushed off cruelty and indifference towards me for almost my entire life. _I’m_ used to it. But I’m not bringing _Talanah_ shame, am I?”

“Not at all! Nothing more than what feeble-minded traditionalists already look down on because she had the gall to exist as a female Sunhawk, anyway. Some elders are likely to throw a fit, but who cares about those old windbags? The Sun has set on their beliefs, and soon enough, on them.” Vanasha rolls her eyes. “No, no, little huntress. I assure you — the well-wishers comprise the majority of buzz around the City.”

“So they’re... more concerned about the lack of a potential heir than two women together?”

“Mostly. Since His Radiance Hivas, 12th Sun King, decreed that every first-born male had to serve in the Sundom’s then-depleted ranks, and the Mad King Jiran’s bloodthirst killed almost as many male soldiers as the outlanders they captured during the Red Raids, it has been far more common and accepted for women to seek companionship with other women, men with other men, and those who are neither with anyone. Gleeful Maren even performs the Rite of Binding on such couples, regardless of station.”

Aloy shoulders relax a bit, but she still looks like she's in deep thought. “But you said it was unconventional and rare.”

“Oh, it is. But not for _those_ reasons. Normally, a noblewoman would present a gift with more monetary value than practical value. Perhaps a jewel-encrusted lance or halberd, a set of ceremonial armor, and the like. A flashy token to appeal to her chosen nobleman lover’s ego, meant not to be used in battle, but to be displayed. Enough to hold meaning, but not exactly serve a functional purpose. Very low effort put into them, too. Mostly they just provide the jewels to be added to a weapon they didn't make, or just outright buy something rare and present it immediately.”

“Sometimes parents would give the Gift on behalf of their child to the head of the Khane they wish their child to marry into. But traditionally, a noblewoman, much like the only daughter of the Khane Padish lineage, would be the one expected to present such a gift to a noble-born _man_. That she was the one to _receive_ an offering of a Gift of Intention said to all watching that you respect the station she fought to carve for herself as Sunhawk and acknowledge it with pride. Honestly, your entire thing sounds almost too romantic, like it was taken straight out of the great bard Serana’s songs. It’s small wonder people are practically swooning over it,” she laughs.

Vanasha grins coyly. “I must warn you, little huntress: Rites of Binding are done by drinking out of the same chalice and binding wrists at sunrise - greeting the day together as one. Just in case you somehow stumble into that by accident like you did with the Declaration of Intent.”

Aloy barely responds to the teasing, brows furrowed in contemplation and worry. “But I’m not a noblewoman, not even Carja. Some people still even call me savage.”

Vanasha leans closer to reassure her. “Little huntress, rude people are everywhere, but regardless of their unfortunate existence, you are _exceptional_ in the eyes of the Sundom. And it is not just because you saved Meridian and the Royal family. Not even just because you are a respected Thrush of the Hunters Lodge — the one who helped bring down Redmaw and holds a complete set of Blazing Suns. Whatever you did to help the lower village and the surrounding communities like Lone Light and Brightmarket certainly endeared you to a lot of Carja common folk, and your help in the Tent City has even softened the hearts of some in Sunfall. The Sun shines quite brightly upon your name, Machine Rider.”

Leaning back with a coy grin, she adds, “It certainly helps that you are not unpleasant to look at. Delightful freckles, hair like flames, eyes of gold-flecked emeralds. With the Sunhawk next to you? You two are a vision worthy of His Radiance Marzid’s greatest portraits, so of course the gossip mill has thrived in your favor."

She pauses to appraise Aloy with a critical eye. "...Though a real bath would certainly help, too. Some oils for your hair, new silks to complement your impressive frame. I would be glad to arrange such for you, if you would be so inclined.”

Aloy mutters a distracted “Thanks, but no.” 

For a minute, she stares at her empty plate before moving to stand. “I… need to talk to Talanah.” 

Vanasha lightly catches her wrist. “Little huntress, don’t be hasty,” she warned. “Think a little more about your way forward. If you… _detach_ from this too quickly and without care, you may ruin all she has worked for.”

“What do you mean?”

Vanasha hesitates. “It’s… complicated.”

“Then _un_ complicate it. Please.”

At Aloy’s pleading stare, Vanasha sighs and inclines her head.

“Very well. I’ll try. But first, I need context. How exactly did you end up following a noble Carja tradition to the letter by sheer accident?” 

“It all started when I stopped to help these two Oseram, Jorgriz and Beladga, the last time that I dropped by the Free Heap. Petra Forgewoman and I were talking, and…”


	2. Kindness and Gifts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: During the HZD errand Hammer and Steel, if you keep talking to Jorgriz and Beladga after offering to take the cables yourself back to Petra, they will keep saying about a dozen hilarious innuendos of what they want to do now that you’ve given them some time alone. It’s missable dialogue. On that topic, the convo with Petra is also different depending on if you make it back to Free Heap before the two or after.
> 
> Chapter contains some spoilers for the Frozen Wilds DLC, prices mentioned are for Ultra Hard difficulty of NG+

**Three months before Aloy learns of her accidental engagement:**

“I got those behemoth cables you needed,” Aloy called to Petra as she climbed up to her platform. From Petra’s posture and the way Kaeluf’s shoulders were slumped, it seemed like she chewed him out a bit for changing duties and potentially endangering the young forgers.

“Aloy! I knew you’d come through. Are Jorgriz and Beladga okay?” Petra gestured to the seat at her workshop.

“They should be along... eventually. They’re taking their time.”

“They’re together? Finally. Petra put me on guard duty for a month, so it’s worth it.” Kaeluf laughed. With a nod of thanks to Aloy. he excused himself from the two with relief.

“Glad to see you survived their bickering.” Petra said, sitting next to Aloy as she started examining the cables Aloy brought.

“Barely.”

“I could say they struggle in love because they’re young, but the old rarely fare better. Thank you, Aloy, for enduring them. For these cables, too. Nice, clean cuts, bundled properly. You sure know how to handle your machinery!”

“Had to learn quickly. Not exactly many merchants willing to trade with outcasts like me and R- like me, and those who’d risk it want only the best…” Aloy shrugged.

“Wait, that isn’t more innuendo, is it? Because I’ve had _way too much_ of Jorgriz and Beldga talking about quenching their forge or hammering in their bolts.” Aloy scrunched up her face.

Petra let out a booming laugh. “For once, no! Fire and spit… guess I shouldn’t expect them back before sundown then… But no. Genuine compliment, that. We can make an Oseram forger out of you yet, Flame-Hair!”

She patted Aloy on the shoulder. “C’mon, then. Rather than send you off with just shards, I’ll also teach you how to improve the blast damage on your trip wires first. What do you say?”

“Really? Yeah, that’d be useful. Thanks!” 

“Least I can do after you helped us with those bandits a few days ago, and for your aid today. Lay out your wires and tripcaster, then. I’ll show you some tricks yet! If you find this Olin fellow once you reach Meridian, he’ll never know what hit him.”

As they worked, hands steady and eyes sharp, they talked of many things, flitting from topic to topic as only their quick wits would take them, until Petra finally asked Aloy the question — the one many youths, no matter what tribe, would agree was the worst:

“What about you, Aloy? Have the flames of love enkindled in the forge of your heart?”

Aloy snorted. “No. I was an outcast from birth, and I’ve only crossed the Daytower out of the Sacred Lands four days ago. I don’t even know how to make _friends_ let alone a lover.” 

She added more of the Blaze solution to her twisted wires, before quietly adding with a wry grin, “So far it feels like the only things I’ve made are enemies.”

“What, you don’t think we’re friends?”

Aloy paused. 

“Well, we’re definitely _not_ enemies…” Aloy considered it. “But… what does it mean? To be friends?” 

In the orange glow of sunset upon the Free Heap, Aloy’s eyes almost belied her loneliness. But Petra still recognized the uncertainty in her tone, knew the quiet yearning for companionship that only came from those who never quite fit in.

“I guess the definition varies from person to person.” Petra scratched at her cheek in thought. “Friends are there for you when you need them, they help you out…”

“That just sounds like hired help, except maybe without the hiring part.”

“They also listen to you, help you find another perspective. They don’t let you bear the weight of the world on your own. Sure, you help each other reach your goals. Maybe it even starts from an equal exchange of help or service. But eventually there’s an element of _care and trust and action_ forged into it.”

Petra put down the tripcaster and leaned closer. “Like you. You helped me and the Free Heap out, showed me your spine of steel. Fought by my side, too, so I trust you. I know in my gut you won’t harm us. That proved true today, when you went out of your way to help out those two idiots. Got to know how stubborn you are, too, and that you’re _seeking_ trouble in your desire to end it. Well, can’t say that’s wise, but we Oseram don’t back down in the face of danger either. I can respect that.”

“So here I am, despite only knowing you,” she tapped Aloy on the nose, “for four days, teaching you secret Oseram tricks for firepower, because I grew to care about you enough to not want you to die. In fact, I’m hoping that whatever you aim to do, you’ll succeed.”

It’s definitely a simplified explanation. Not because she thought Aloy wasn’t smart enough to comprehend it, but because Petra got the feeling that the kid learned best by example. Social prowess can’t be taught in merely words, especially to someone who lived as an outcast for nearly her entire life. 

Petra suppressed a pang of outrage. If it were anyone’s loss, it was those superstitious Nora. But still, despite only knowing her for a few days, she wished Aloy had grown up with a loving community like she deserved. No kid should ever experience the cold pain of not being wanted.

“So… friendship is having respect for each other’s ability, helping each other in ways you are able to, and caring about each other’s well-being?”

That sounded… like Rost, almost. Then again, Rost was her only social contact for most of her life. She didn’t exactly have other points of first-hand reference just yet.

Aloy thought of the groups of Nora children she observed as an envious, lonely child. They played together. They learned together. They never had to talk to themselves because they had other kids who would respond, laugh, retort — friends who acknowledged their existence.

“A little _more_ than that, Flame-Hair. But despite being outcast, I can tell you that you grew up a lot better than most: your heart is kind, you’re capable, clever, and you’re very well-struck. Once you meet a few more people and wash out the scum from the good ore, you’ll understand. Hammer to steel, I swear! You have a certain charm about you. Good friends will come, Aloy, and loneliness won’t last once you take a chance.”

“And how is friendship… initiated?”

Petra shrugged. “Sometimes, you just click and fit together like gears that came out of the same forge. Sometimes, it starts with a good gesture or a gift — small kindnesses that are like the best metal, forming chain links that connect you to your friend, growing stronger with time and effort.”

Aloy remembered Vala, whose life was cut too short, but whose quick wit and willingness to help told her they might’ve been friends in another life; Teb, who held his gratitude for 12 years, and gifted her an outfit to protect her during the Proving; Varl, who fought by her side and trusted her to plan; and now Petra, who was helping her to be better prepared for the battles to come, and offering much needed guidance. 

_Friendship starts by showing kindness and giving gifts. Easy enough to remember._

“Yes,” Aloy nodded decisively. “We _are_ friends, and now that I think about it, _maybe_ you’re not my only one.” She saw Petra’s grin grow and smiled back. “Thank you, Petra. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

* * *

  
  


**Now:**

“So you thought gift-giving just initiated _friendship_?” The Carja spy stares in disbelief.

“Or at least confirmed it? From my side… Well, clearly, there were… differences... in tribal traditions,” Aloy rubs the back of her neck awkwardly, the tips of her ears now red with embarrassment.

“ _Clearly_... I mean, this Petra isn't exactly wrong, but... the way you went about it... I still don’t understand — how did you not think you were _already_ friends after fighting a glorious battle by her side?” Vanasha stuttered through her query, still unable to believe that all this fuss really stemmed from such a simple misunderstanding.

“It was a specific moment that made me want to…”

* * *

  
  


**Five weeks ago, right after Talanah’s ascension to Sunhawk:**

Aloy thought about Talanah, smiling as she walked out of the Lodge. Not uncommon these days. Over the past few weeks of hunting for her, with her, and now defeating Redmaw by her side, she’d grown to admire the determined Carja hunter.

She savored the warmth that came with being seen and understood, when Talanah looked into her eyes and thanked her as ‘Aloy, _despite_ the Nora.’ Realizing that Talanah listened to her vent and _remembered_ that detail felt satisfyingly light in her chest.

Even now — when the circumstances of the last several weeks enabled and necessitated conversations with far more people than she’s ever talked to compared to the 18 years before the Proving — talking _with her_ was different.

Talanah listened with intent, and she shared her words with empathy. Her quiet confidence was reassuring, calming even, and her tendency for blunt honesty and her sense of humor made Aloy feel like she could trust her. 

Growing up in the Embrace, ‘talking’ was usually one-sided. Rost was a man of few, deliberate, but caring words, and the figures she saw through her focus were mere echoes of their long dead sources.

_Happy birthday, Isaac! Daddy sure does love his little big man. Look, Daddy can’t be there with you and mom, but... We can still have a party, right? Sure we can!_

She had replayed that over. And over. And over again, delighting in the sheer parental affection in the man’s gaze, in the joy and love palpable from the short message. Whoever that father was, he was far away from his son, but he found a way to let his child know he was loved. 

As a child she had clung to it. Maybe her mother was out there too, or her blood father. Maybe they were captured, maybe they were sent away. Maybe, just _maybe,_ they missed her too.

But the collection of echoes in her Focus didn’t make her feel less lonely. If anything, it made her feel colder. It made the sense of _otherness_ so very stark — to hear the words, see the figures smile, and know that they were never intended for her. Nothing was.

But Talanah… her joy was shared with Aloy, _directed_ at her even, and in that moment was happy because of Aloy's help. She could see clearly in her mind’s eye the joy that sparkled in her honey-gold eyes when she smiled at her and said, “It feels like sunrise after a long night. Aloy, thank you. You’ll always have a special home here if you want it.”

Aloy’s grin grew at remembering Talanah's smile, a warm flutter in her stomach. She never thought that making other people happy could elicit in herself the same potent joy, too. The cold void of loneliness felt the farthest it’s ever been. 

Petra really was right about friendship. 

_Wait…_

_Does Talanah consider me a friend?_ Aloy stopped in her tracks in the middle of the market, a strange sort of dismay curling in her gut at the mere prospect that _maybe_ Talanah didn’t consider her so.

_Petra said friendships were commonly initiated with small kindnesses or gifts. Did fighting Redmaw count as a kindness?_

_No_ , Aloy realizes. Perhaps it didn’t count. It was her duty as Talanah’s Thrush.

Then and there, Aloy made her decision: she _must_ give Talanah a gift.

“Ah, but what to give her…” she muttered aloud, the shards pouch at her hip too worryingly light for the quality that Talanah deserves.

She wishes she could ask Rost about this. 

And like the cold waters of snowmelt poured down her back, she sobered at the thought of never getting to talk with Rost again. Eclipse had stolen that from them with their callous cruelty. 

She shook her head and focused. She had a _mission_.

Her answers awaited in the Grave Hoard, and more mysteries lay undiscovered in The Cut. Perhaps Talanah’s gift can wait.

* * *

**Now:**

“So you got worried that she thought you weren’t her friend?”

Aloy feels her cheeks and the tips of her ears burn with embarrassment. Vanasha is looking at her like Nora children looked at fuzzy and yellow baby geese that waddled after their mother.

She closes her eyes so she wouldn’t see it, sipping at her ale to block Vanasha’s sight before she says anything more incriminating. 

But she finishes her drink and there she was — still grinning, still staring.

Aloy sighs. Fighting through a Shellwalker convoy was easier than getting through this conversation. “Yes, yes. I know it’s ridiculous. I think it was probably the first time I realized I _actually_ cared about what someone thought about me.” 

“That’s not a bad thing, little huntress.” Vanasha’s voice grows serious. “Caring _too much_ of what people think of you isn’t good, of course. But caring about the opinions of people _who matter_ to you keeps you grounded. It’s far too easy to justify one’s immoral choices when you don’t care about anyone, about what they think of you.” 

Aloy can certainly understand that point. The question always haunts her — not necessarily what would Rost do, but rather, _would Rost be disappointed in me?_

 _To serve a purpose greater than yourself. That is the lesson you must learn,_ echoes in her mind in key moments. It cools the fire of her anger, allowing her to make rational, even compassionate decisions, like sparing Olin and saving his family.

She remembers the journals she found in the Eclipse base. If Helis hadn’t lost his wife and child, would he have let them keep him grounded? Would he still have chosen to follow in Jiran’s bloodthirst, and later, HADES? 

She’ll never know.

“I understand that,” Aloy nods. 

“So why is it so embarrassing for you when it comes to the _Sunhawk’s_ opinion of you? I’ve never seen anyone turn so red! For a moment, the tips of your ears blended with your hair,” Vanasha laughs.

“I… don’t know,” she shrugs helplessly. “Somehow, I’m just… I find myself _wanting_ to spend more time with her, and I want to be at my best when she’s near.”

“Oh, little huntress…” That look that should only be given to soft baby geese was back again.

“It’s strange. I know Talanah trusts my abilities. I know she thinks I’m capable and strong. She’s told me before.” Talanah had told her, and if Aloy was grinning in confidence as she brought down a Stormbird for Brin’s fix later, that’s no one’s business but her own.

“But this urge to be at my best for her… Not competitively, I don’t want to be her rival,” Aloy adds hastily. “This urge must be…” Aloy taps at her empty glass, the steady rhythm slowing her thoughts to a calm stream.

Her hand stills and her back straightens as the realization comes upon her. “I think... maybe it’s because I’m her Thrush; Talanah deserves the best of everything, including her choice of Thrush. I don’t want people who are like Ahsis to think _she_ made a mistake in sponsoring me.”

Vanasha smiles tightly, trying to keep herself from gritting her teeth, and exhales without acknowledging her theory. As much as she wanted to say _no, that’s not it at all_ and point out the obvious, she knew it would be much more meaningful if Aloy realizes the truth of her feelings on her own. 

Changing the subject, she prods, “Tell me about the Gift again?”

* * *

  
  
**Three weeks ago, in The Cut:**

Aloy walked back to Song’s Edge a little stiffly, the muscles of her back and right side still aching a little bit when she stretched. Her and Aratak’s graceless and desperate escape from Cauldron EPSILON the day before had gone rough, and her earlier climb back to Ourea’s Retreat to talk with the reinstated Chief and CYAN only made things worse.

The snowy chill this evening was as unforgiving as ever, though much more bearable since she was decked in her Chieftain furs. Though she gave the headpiece back to Aratak, the warrior was firm in his decision that Aloy still deserved to wear the armor. _Your deeds demand no less, and your echoing song deserves no less,_ he had said. 

_Wear it with pride,_ he had gruffly patted her back. _Or at least to keep those thin shoulders of yours warm._

Finally making it back to the communal fire at Song’s Edge, Aloy noticed a new arrival: the merchant from the White Teeth werak that she had met during her first week here was back from his resupplying trip further North.

“Arkan!” she greeted, moving to sit across him by the fire. “I see you’re back. Have you got the Powershot bows back in stock, then?”

During his last stop a few weeks ago, Aloy had painstakingly scavenged for Bluegleam across the inhospitable land of The Cut just to buy the Adept Striker and Champion bows. 

The sheer quality of the bows made the biting cold worth it, but unfortunately, her Bluegleam and shards had both fallen short of buying the Powershot. She had watched with disappointment as the last one was bought by another Banuk hunter, knowing that the Merchant’s supply would still be at least a week’s travel North.

“Of course! My word is my bond, and I’ve got only the best bows from Mastercrafter Kima. For 6,250 shards, 14 Bluegleam, and 1 Scorcher Heart, this Adept Powershot is yours.”

He moved closer to present the bow to her, and for a moment, it felt like all her aches and the chill in her bones were gone. The bow looked _perfectly_ formidable. 

She took the bow by the arching curves of the riser, running her hands on the ridges of the carved and painted wood. The small metal cams gleamed in the firelight, and Banuk beads symbolizing power, precision, and bountiful prey decorated the very edges of the string. Two blue feathers that symbolized the Blue Light hung from the top limb.

Aiming high, Aloy nocked a precision arrow, drew the string back and just marveled for a moment at the smoothness and stability of the pull. The normal strain in her drawing arm was much less noticeable than her old Sharpshot, and she knew that if needed, she could overdraw and hold this position for much longer.

A few breaths later, she released the arrow, hitting an owl at around 70 paces, securing dinner and feathers for her arrows.

Aloy beamed. The bow was perfect, and she couldn’t wait to test it out some more. 

“I’ll take it!” As she counted out the resources she needed to pay, a thought flitted into her mind.

_Talanah would appreciate the craftsmanship._

She paused in consideration. Talanah would be pleased _to use_ a bow of this quality, she’s sure. This could be the perfect gift, especially after Redmaw’s tail had dealt a glancing blow to Talanah’s own weapon.

“Actually, how much for two?” she asked, inwardly wishing for a steep discount.

The merchant shrugged. “Same price. I was actually saving this other one for a Tenakth customer who was also interested, but if you’ve got enough to buy it, I’ll let it go now.”

Aloy’s heart sank. “I don’t,” she admits, passing the right amount for one to Arkan and slinging the bow onto her back. “But thanks. This will serve me well.”

She turned back to head to her tent and sleep the aches away.

Arkan studied her carefully, shifting his gaze to Sekuli’s painting — perfectly placed on the cliff edge above Aloy — and cursed his soft heart.

“Wait!” he called out impulsively. 

At seeing inquisitive green-gold eyes, Arkan begrudgingly continued. “You’ve done great things to aid Song’s Edge and make us safer. It is time for me to aid you in return. Sit,” he gestured back to the seats near the fire. “This is not for others to hear. I don’t want to lose business.”

Once they were seated and warmed, he continued, “I’m no artificer. Don’t have the skills to craft a bow for you. But I do know where you can find the materials to build it since the Mastercrafter also trades supplies from me.”

He gives Aloy a look of warning, imploring her silently to keep the secrets he was about to share.

“There are three things that make these Adept bows strong enough to overdraw while maintaining stability and efficiency. First is wood from a special tree, flexible but extremely strong. It grows sparsely around The Cut. Most of it is farther North, where I usually get my merchandise. But there is a small grove here. Northeast of the Tallneck, there is a valley; are you familiar?”

Aloy nodded. Familiar indeed — it was there that Aratak had conceded leadership of his werak.

He showed her the other Powershot he was keeping in stock, pointing to the riser. “Find dry branches of Darkwood, as thick as your wrist is wide, almost as tall as you are. Make sure there is no trace of rot.”

Then he tapped the shining cams at the top and bottom of the bow. “Next, a Sawtooth’s leg joints. Find two of these — they act as the block and tackle system enhancing the strength of your pull. And finally, while you’re at it,” Arkan tugged on the bowstring and continued, “Carefully take out the supple and thin cable running from its neck and down its back. Get all of it! It will serve as your string.”

Aloy took out her own new Adept Powershot, turning it this way and that to commit the details to her mind.

“The longer strings wound around the small pulleys generates more power during the pull, which makes it easier to hold back the string for much longer, ” Aloy observed.

“Exactly.” Arkan stood abruptly. “We’ve never had this conversation.”

“What conversation?” Aloy immediately fired back, lips twitching into a smile. “But thanks. I will keep your secrets.”

The merchant walked away without another word.

Kill a Sawtooth and get some Darkwood. Easy enough that it can wait until tomorrow morning.

  
  
  
  


It was _not_ easy enough.

Aloy cursed loudly as the Frostclaw took another swipe at her. She rolled towards the gap between its hind legs to escape behind it, firing three shock arrows into the power cell on its back.

The machine roared as the shock arrows made contact, shocking it and leaving it sprawled in the snow.

Aloy leaped and stabbed her spear straight into its head, but somehow the machine stood back up, lumbering towards her in speeds one wouldn’t think it capable due to its size.

She ran back a few paces, jumping over the blast wires she had set up and putting all her speed into getting away from the blast until-

The blast shook the ground, and Aloy rolled instinctively to land back on her feet.

The Frostclaw continued to move, the red glow of its sensors trained right on her, but it was on its last legs. 

Aloy switched to her Powershot, drawing back a precision arrow and easily striking its freeze sac. 

With a hiss, the chillwater released and froze the machine from the inside out, finally putting it down. The purple glow of daemonic influence faded from the prone Frostclaw.

Aloy sighed in relief. 

With the machine no longer guarding the valley, Aloy easily found the Darkwood grove. Several trees were knocked down and split by the Daemonic Frostclaw. Picking up a reasonably sized length and a few spares, Aloy carried her prize back to the nearest safe camp.

The wood had been the last piece she needed, and ironically, the most challenging one to obtain. She honestly thought all she needed to do was chop a branch off. 

The Sawtooth parts weren’t even a challenge to harvest, and the owl from last night had provided feathers that she had then dyed with oxide and salt pigments to match the turquoise and gold of Talanah’s armor. Those would fit well on the top limb of her handcrafted bow.

With her materials ready, she got to work. Using the blade of her spear and a makeshift carving dagger she got from the claws of the Frostclaw, she cut and bent the flexible wood to her will and vision, carefully emulating her own bow and making sure the cams would fit each limb edge.

Once that was done, she painted a light blue stripe that matched Talanah’s armor, before coating it with the protective clear resin she got from Sekuli. Just as it protected her paintings, it would protect the weapon from water, fire, and rot. 

While it dried, she attempted the leather grip. Talanah’s hand was similarly sized to her own, so she took that into consideration as she adjusted the thickness of the dark leather grip she planned to wrap around the riser.

Next, she carved the bone guards which would fit on the arches of the riser. She didn’t think beads were part of Carja beliefs, or at least not in the same way that the Banuk and Nora held them in sentimental regard, so she left them out. Instead, she carved and painted into the guards the symbol of Carja nobility she normally saw painted around their eyes, a set each on the top and bottom limbs of the bow, close to the grip — four red and gold lines and circles, symbolizing the rays of the Sun.

The bone guards, obtained from a boar, weren’t only there for aesthetic appeal. With its strength reinforcing and balancing the bow, Talanah would also be able to use it to deflect blows from spears or lances.

By the time she woke up the next day, the resin had dried, and she painstakingly put all the pieces together. 

Knowing Talanah’s penchant for careful, high-impact strikes at machines' weak points, she carefully twisted the Sawtooth cable with weapon coils meant to significantly enhance piercing damage and drastically improve handling.

Soon enough, a highly personalized Adept Powershot bow now sat in her hands. Dark leather was tightly wrapped around its grip. At the cusp where nocked arrows rest against the handle, there was a metallic inlay - a small piece taken from Redmaw's heart. The turquoise and gold, with hints of red upon the dark wood and bone, all reminded her of the recipient. It was a bow worthy of the Sunhawk indeed.

She tugged at the bowstring a few times, testing its draw strength and stability. She’ll use it to hunt for food soon, to ensure its quality. No more Frostclaws for now, though.

Aloy looked over her work — ignoring the little scratches and nicks on her hands — with a pleased smile. 

This bow would serve Talanah well.

And yet despite the satisfaction and pride of knowing this was her creation, a niggling worry persisted that Talanah might not like it.

Aloy breathed in the cold, biting air. She let the sting at the back of her throat and in her lungs sober her up, before exhaling and shaking off the nerves. 

_No use worrying,_ she reminded herself. She’ll use the bow, or maybe she won’t. Either way, Talanah is never one to be mean. 

It’s a small kindness and a gift. 

What matters is that she’ll make a friend. If her gift results in even one of Talanah's warm smiles directed at her, that would be more than enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not a good outliner. Here, let me copy down part of the one I made for this chapter.
> 
> Petra: How to make friends 101  
> Aloy to Vanasha: Instructions unclear, got fiancee instead???  
> [is this a pigeon meme.jpeg except its Aloy - burgeoning crush on Talanah - is this making a friend???]
> 
> Anyway, THANK YOU SO MUCH for reading, for dropping kudos, and for showing some love in the comments. Y'all motivate me! <3 Be well and stay safe! See you next chapter~


	3. Gossip and Assumptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talanah receives the Gift... and learns you really can't control gossip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3017 - The reign of the Mad King Jiran begins  
> *3019 - Talanah Khane Padish is born  
> 3021 - Aloy is born (April 4)  
> *3032 - At age 13, Talanah is orphaned and escapes Meridian  
> 3038 - Talanah returns and joins the Lodge after the Liberation  
> 3040 (month unknown, likely in spring) - Aloy joins the Proving  
> *Almost four months after the Proving Massacre, sometime in the summer** - Present day, Aloy learns of her accidental engagement (Ch. 1)  
> * = my additions to canon, for the sake of the fic  
> ** The “Record of Redmaw 2” datapoint says that Talanah’s ascension to Sunhawk happened in the “summer of the third year of the reign of the Sun-King Avad”
> 
> Now, *rubs hands together* let’s see Talanah’s side of things:

**Almost two weeks ago:**

Talanah flexed and stretched her right hand with a wince. Her days as Sunhawk required more writing and financial know-how than she had expected, and while her mind welcomed it with much ease, her cramped writing hand did not.

At this point in the afternoon, part of her would rather shoot hundreds of arrows than dip her pen once more in ink. But the rational part of her stifled the burgeoning ire. For years since her father and brother’s sacrifice, she’d dreamed of being — and fought to be — Sunhawk. No pain, especially something trivial as this, could get her to give it up.

But she _had_ been writing missives for hours now. There were a lot of hunting petitions to respond to, hunters to assign to said petitions, merchants and hunting grounds keepers with which to coordinate, and the ledgers that kept track of commissions, worker and hunter compensations, donations, and Lodge expenses weren’t going to proof and update themselves. 

That fool Ahsis had been as greedy as he was dumb, and the Lodge had suffered during his tenure in more ways than just echoing his bigotry in ideology.

But no matter how annoying the task sometimes was, perusing the older bound records had sunlight peeking through the dark clouds of her frustration. Every so often, she’d see her father’s handwriting again, bittersweetly tracing the dark ink of his neat, almost blocky glyphs and numbers with her own hand. 

It was quite different from her own handwriting — all curves where there should be edges, slanting just slightly to the left where her glyphs should be straight.

Her childhood tutor — a somewhat curmudgeonly retired priest of the Sun — would have rapped her knuckles and assigned more penmanship practice if he had seen her outputs now. Quite frankly, he had been an annoyance in her youth, all scowls and droning, gravelly voice. But now that she had the responsibilities of being Sunhawk, she couldn’t help but be grateful. Despite his monotone lectures and her own wandering attention, he (and Brativin’s occasional aid) had managed to teach her well. 

She was more thankful for her father. Talavad Khane Padish, may the Sun give him quiet rest, hadn’t quite known what to do with the daughter his wife died giving birth to. But Talavad — from the moment he had held her in his arms, he said — loved his daughter just like he loved his son Brativin, and so he treated them the same. Tutors in arithmetics, history, logic, and rhetoric, training in weapons and hunting, his time and affection — anything his son needed, he showered equally upon Talanah.

Music, politics, traditions, and art, Talavad’s wife Alura would have gladly taught her children. She was the youngest of the many daughters of His Radiance Nahasis, beloved sister to Their Radiances Hivas and Marzid. But like all her siblings, the Sun had set too early upon her name, and he could never quite stomach the thought of another woman partaking in the joyful duties that should have been Alura’s.

And so the girl who would become Sunhawk learned to hunt like her brother, learned to debate and fight and plan like her brother… at least until her 13th year, when her world turned upside down, when she fled from everything she had ever known.

That girl who would become Sunhawk learned to survive, unlike her brother and parents.

She ran, she trained, fell down and got up twice as much. She swore on her blood that she’d grow strong enough to uphold their legacy and bring their sacrifice justice as the last of the Khane Padish. 

Talanah sighed and rubbed at her eye. Her hand hurt, and her head was beginning to pound, too. Maybe some air would do her good.

Talanah went out of her room and walked out to the balcony of the Lodge, not paying any attention to the usual din of the bar and band on the floor below.

The candles of the Shrine to the Lodge’s Fallen were temporarily extinguished, given the windy day, but her mended bow still sat upon its platform. It would perhaps never be as sturdy as it once was, but the bow that dealt the final strike to Redmaw was now serviceable and looked worthy of being offered at the shrine.

She took it in her hands, still in a melancholic mood.

It was her father’s bow. 

After the Liberation, Tarkas had it returned to her. _For closure_ , he had said. 

But it only ever served as her reminder. It was returned to her wrapped in a sack and still bearing a blood stain on its bottom limb, as if the hand that gripped it had bled down its pale wood, and despite the years, the mark was still visible. 

She traced the stain with practiced hands. Upon receiving it, she had cleaned, polished, and refurbished the bow, cooling her anger and bitterness with the steel of her determination to succeed Ahsis. But the mark never quite came out, no matter what she did.

Would Talavad be proud, knowing that the weapon he died defending the people of Meridian with, was the same one that helped defeat the legendary Redmaw?

Would Brativin be happy for her, knowing she achieved the dream that was once his?

She hoped so.

Talanah slowly pulled back the string one last time, aiming an imaginary arrow above the horizon where the Sun was about to set, and closed her eyes. 

For a single moment, she was a small child again. Brativin was guiding her elbow to where it needed to be, forearm parallel to the ground. His usual gentle taps lowered her drawing hand closer to her jaw line.

 _Neutral stance, ‘Lana. And breathe naturally. Don’t hold your breath,_ her father’s baritone reminded her.

She breathed deeply once, twice, and released the string. 

It was time to let go of the past. The Sun would shine brighter upon her in the coming days.

Opening her eyes, Talanah held Talavad’s bow with both hands. It was no longer hers to borrow.

In the light of the setting sun, red flashed at the corner of her eye. Turning quickly, she saw...

“Aloy! You’re back!” Talanah met her Thrush’s smile with one of her own. “It’s been weeks. I thought you forgot about me,” she teased.

“Never,” Aloy swore. She was carrying a long rectangular wooden box, but upon seeing her, had slung its rope across her back instead. “My business in The Cut just took longer than I anticipated, is all. How have you been, _Sunhawk_?”

“Fixing the mess Ahsis left has its challenges, but I can power through. Sure would rather be outside, though. I haven’t hunted since Redmaw,” she admitted, leaning on the balustrade.

“You’d enjoy the challenge of the machines I encountered in The Cut then. But, uh, I see your bow’s... fixed,” she gestured at the old bow. “That’s… good.”

“Mm. It was my father’s. I couldn’t leave it be.” She bent down and placed it gently back on the shrine.

Aloy briefly touched the necklace Rost gave her. “I understand.” 

Talanah looked up at Aloy and patted the balustrade beside her in invitation. “My last few weeks stuck here since Redmaw were surely boring in comparison. I've mostly just been accepting trophies and reconciling ledgers. Tell me of your travels instead?”

Aloy grinned and moved to her side. “Sure, but what’s keeping you stuck here? You’re the _Sunhawk._ If you need a break, just take a short walk, no harm done. You’re not really the type to be neglectful of your duties, anyway.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to miss you if you visited,” she countered playfully, nudging Aloy’s side and eliciting a laugh.

Aloy had a point, though. She might just take that break soon. But first...

“So, tell me about The Cut.” 

And Aloy did. She told her about winning all first place at the Hunting Grounds Lauvuk ran _(‘Hunting Grounds? In Banuk land? Oh, I’ve got to try that out myself soon!’ 'Have fun trying to beat my record!')_ and the — heavily abridged — tale that led to her first encounter with a Fireclaw.

_(‘We should hunt the remaining ones down,’ Talanah proposed._

_‘Redmaw only just took his rightful place and you’re replacing him already?’ Aloy teased, gesturing to its carcass hanging above the bar. ‘How would we even bring the Fireclaw down the mountain and back to the Lodge? It’s bigger than a Thunderjaw.’_

_‘In pieces, of course, and enough shards to hire workers to pack and carry them back. Why, are you scared?’ she laughed._

_‘With you and I as a team? Not at all. Let’s time it — I bet we can take it out faster than Redmaw!’)_

Much too soon, the night grew late, and the chattering and laughs at the bar below them grew more noticeable, as did the songs from the band. There were more people now, fledglings, members, artisans, and merchants alike.

Time really did fly by when the company was good.

“I have to go,” Aloy told Talanah, glancing at the sky. “It would be good for me to take advantage of the darkness as cover.”

“You only just got back. Won’t you rest first?” she asked in concern. The dark bags against the pale skin underneath Aloy’s eyes were noticeable. 

“I can’t, I’ve put it off long enough,” Aloy said with a bit of regret. “I just wanted to see you first because it might take me a while before I’ll be able to get back to Meridian again.”

Worry gnawed at Talanah’s gut. She’d already been gone for three weeks. How much longer was a while? “You have a lead on what you’re searching for?” 

“I do. Tonight, I head to the Jewel, past Sunstone Rock, and if I succeed… Sunfall.”

“Sunfall?!” 

Aloy nodded.

“Aloy…” Talanah put her hand on Aloy’s shoulder. “I know how important this is to you,” she began, squeezing in support. “And you know I won’t try to stop you. But please, _be careful._ No matter how strong you are, no matter how much I trust your abilities, I still don’t like the thought of you alone in enemy territory with no one to watch your back.”

She knew Aloy wasn’t telling her the whole story, and that worried her too. But the raw hurt and confusion in Aloy’s eyes when she first told her about the search for answers about her origins and her probable mother could never be anything less than true. 

This was Aloy's _mission_ , just like restoring her family legacy was Talanah's.

Talanah may worry, but she understood, and that was enough.

“I’ll be careful,” Aloy smiled in reassurance, glad for the warmth of Talanah’s support. 

Slowly, she covered Talanah’s hand with her own and squeezed back. “There are some things that I just have to do on my own, but… one day soon, if circumstances permit, I’ll be... glad to have someone I can trust to share this journey with me.”

“But not this one just yet.” 

“Not this one, no.”

She would respect that.

“If you have to leave now, let me at least see you out,” Talanah offered, leading the way downstairs.

The usual revelry of the Lodge’s patrons and members greeted them, with some offering nods and smiles of acknowledgement to the two.

The Sunhawk led her across the lobby, stopping near Ligan’s usual spot near the door. The eldest member was already at the bar with his peers now that the work day was over.

Turning to Aloy to see her off, she was concerned to see her uncharacteristically fidgeting, tapping her finger on the rope that held the thin box across her back. It wasn’t enough for others to notice, perhaps. But for one who has fought by her side like Talanah, she can clearly see that the stillness and alertness that Aloy usually commanded was gone.

She touched Aloy’s shoulder again. “Are you okay? Nervous?” She searched her eyes for signs of apprehension.

But Aloy smiled back at her. “It’s nothing, I just… I have something for you.”

Aloy placed the thin box she was carrying on the ground and opened the latch. “I know it can’t possibly replace your father’s bow — and I don’t expect that it will,” she added hastily. “But I made this for you.”

She took out a beautiful, well-detailed bow that matched Talanah’s armor and presented it with both hands. 

The Sunhawk gasped, echoed by the others in the Lodge. Some onlookers, especially the artisans, had already started murmuring and muttering. Talanah had no doubt they were noting the high quality of work put into this one of a kind weapon.

From her first sight, she knew Aloy made it with her in mind. 

Accepting the gift almost with reverence, she ran a careful finger along the carvings and symbols painted. Talanah couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer amount of effort it took to personalize it for her sake.

“Oh, Aloy, it’s amazing…” she breathed out.

As Aloy let go of her gift, her pleased little smile growing, Talanah noticed the thin scars that marked her Thrush’s hands.

Looking her in the eyes, Talanah smiled, warm and genuine. “You honor me, Aloy, despite the Nora.” 

She took one of Aloy’s hands into her own and for a long moment, ran her thumb over the raised marks below her knuckles, gentle and soothing. How the Nora could ever bear to shun a thoughtful, kind, hardworking, and immensely capable girl like Aloy, she’ll _never_ understand.

Ignoring the hushed whispers of the people around them — the ones sober enough to notice them, at least — Talanah carefully slung the bow across her back with her other hand, pulled the surprised hunter into her arms and held her close. “Thank you, Aloy. You’re a great friend,” she whispered. The warmth of her words was meant for Aloy only.

From this proximity, she realized that Aloy was actually a little taller than she was, the stiff-backed posture against her casual affection making the minor height difference more stark. But soon, Talanah felt Aloy’s arms begin to wrap around her shoulders as well, hesitant at first, then relaxing into a warm and gentle embrace.

 _Was this Aloy’s first hug?_ Talanah couldn’t help but wonder. She squeezed a little tighter at the thought, inwardly wishing she could give her a hundred more of the hugs she deserved, but she couldn’t.

Talanah held on for just one more moment anyway.

“Be safe, Aloy. May the Sun light your way,” she whispers, releasing her friend. “We’ll do a trial at the Hunting Grounds when you get back, your bow and mine,” she promises quietly, beaming as they walk out the door.

Returning her smile one last time, Aloy set off on her mission to destroy the Eclipse Network.

Talanah lingered by the Lodge entrance for a bit longer, watching Aloy until she disappeared from view.

She took the bow from her back and took a moment to just commit the wonderful details to memory. 

The restless energy that was sapped by the monotony of desk work suddenly made itself known again, and the desire to test the bow in a hunt won out.

Maybe she will take that break after all.

She walked back inside the Lodge with the intent of asking Ligan if he could take charge for tomorrow, only to see its inhabitants in loud drunken chaos.

As she walked closer to Ligan’s seat, it seemed some artisans were debating about the functionality and design of the bow, as she deduced from their gestures, but the band — who had switched to playing something a little more rowdy — didn’t really let her overhear anything.

One of the drunker fledglings at the bar, Palaved, yelled what could be roughly interpreted as “Congratulations!” as she passed by, but she couldn’t be sure. Korduf, the Oseram fledgling, and a few artisans around him raised their glasses vaguely in her direction, or perhaps it was towards the band.

The only one who looked ‘normal’ was Inquiring Jandiniman, historian-in-residence, who was writing furiously, a tankard of ale he wasn’t technically supposed to have by his side left forgotten in favor of his pen, parchment, and inkwell.

Talanah shook her head. These grown men can take care of themselves… mostly. She had a hunt to accomplish.

Tapping the retired hunter on his shoulder, the mildly tipsy Ligan turned to acknowledge her with a smile. “That was a beautiful Gift that Aloy presented, Talanah. Sun’s blessing upon you!”

Talanah grinned back. “By the Sun’s grace, I chose my Thrush well. Thoughtful, isn’t she? But I actually wanted to ask, could you please take charge here tomorrow? I haven’t really been out since Redmaw and I wanted to go hunt.”

“Of course, of course,” chuckled Ligan. “Enjoy the day. It would be better if Aloy were here to join you, no?”

Talanah laughed. “True, but now she’ll kind of always be with me,” she waggled the bow playfully.

There was an odd smattering of applause from those near and sober enough to hear.

She left the Lodge to its upbeat revelry with a light feeling in her chest.

Since the Liberation, it felt like she’d carried the ghosts of her family within her father’s bow — heavy and anguished, forgotten by the people they kept safe, buried by the one who benefitted from their loss.

Now, she looked at Aloy’s gift and knew there were no ghosts to haunt her inside it. There was only the reminder of her friend’s support and respect — the promise that they may go their different paths sometimes, but she would never truly be alone.

  
  
  
For the first time since she came back after the liberation, she spent the night in her family’s old manor near the Maizelands instead of her bunk at the Lodge dormitory.

_(She made a mental note to have the Sunhawk’s mattress in the quarters adjacent to his old office replaced. No way was she ever sleeping anywhere Ahsis touched.)_

The old caretaker — a short, kindly silver-haired man named Garmeli — had been pleasantly surprised to see her. As he welcomed her back and surrendered a key, Talanah noted that her childhood home no longer felt quite so… oppressive. 

The day the Liberation succeeded, she had come back with haste, but couldn’t bear to go inside. Her own shame and guilt for running and leaving her family behind felt too great. Every hallway seemed to taunt her with memories — her father’s favorite sweet cha no longer made the kitchen fragrant, Brativin’s heavy footfalls and singing were no longer echoing. There was only silence and staleness, and she couldn’t face it.

But with that chapter of her life closed, sleeping in her old room felt easier — comforting, even.

She would face that day’s hunt with a night of peaceful rest, her first in a long while.

The next morning, the Stormbirds and Glinthawks plaguing the Cut Cliffs proved no match for her skill and her bow.

Aloy’s gift practically sang in her hands — its draw was quick and stable, and its strike was forceful and true.

It was an utter joy to use, and the thrill of the hunt only added to it.

Soon, the machines lay scattered about the quarry, but she made no move to harvest them. The commission for this was already quite enough, and with Ahsis’ tendency to skim off, the Lodge needed the shards too. She’ll leave the parts for the villagers as a compromise.

As she went back up the cliff, one of the merchants on the settlement above began to point. “It’s the Sunhawk herself!”

“Congratulations, honored Sunhawk!”

“Blessings of the Sun be upon you!”

“Thank you for taking the time to protect our settlement!”

“You must be so happy, congratulations!”

Merchants and workers chimed in with their own happy greetings and thanks.

Talanah smiled at them all. “Thank you, thank you,” she replied, a little puzzled, but grateful for the good cheer anyway. 

Still, the congratulatory greetings were strangely a little _too_ lively to just be for slaying the machines… even Hunting Grounds Keepers were normally a little reserved, and it wasn’t as if this trip of hers had been a _trial._

Taking no further notice of their strange exuberance, she gladly accepted the payment, plus a small parcel of food — smoked geese and cheese rolled in bread — from a grateful merchant.

Perfect timing, since the manor’s pantry had not exactly been stocked with anything edible when she arrived last night.

Since Meridian was quite near, she took off her chest piece and headpiece for the walk back under the heat of the summer sun, leaving her in light Blazon. She tucked the loose tail of her hair into a bun to cool off even more.

It had the nice benefit of leaving her to be mostly unrecognized as she walked back to the Lodge, taking small bites of her roll as she did.

The buzz of the traders and workers continued around her, but it seemed to be the same story upon their lips.

“Oh! The romance of it all…” a young adolescent was squealing to her friends.

“... was apparently leaving for somewhere dangerous and…” gossiped an artisan to a customer.

“....much like a Kestrel who's been drafted and assigned a post outside the City, she wished to show a sign of lasting commitment despite distance…” an old merchant shared to his fellows, gesturing wildly with his arms..

“What better gesture than presenting a Gift of Intention?” a man carrying a stack of fruits asked his companion.

Talanah rolled her eyes. So which dumb nobleman was about to get hitched? It was probably the Khane Brenato man-child. May the Sun have mercy on the poor girl who chose that womanizing brat. Who even gave Gifts of Intention these days? 

She chewed another bite of her bread roll, not actively paying attention to the gossip of the citizens around her, but couldn’t help overhearing anyway.

“... too romantic to be real! That’s boarshit…”

“Ah, you’re cynical - why can’t you…”

“Handcrafted? That would be striking, but I can’t believe she…”

“I swear, the announcement came from Hunters Lodge just this noon!”

Talanah stopped in her tracks upon overhearing the last comment. Somehow, a niggling suspicion had started to bother her.

_Surely they couldn’t be thinking of…_

_It can't be..._

She ran through the City with all her speed, with dwindling hope that if she just reached the Lodge on time, she’d learn she was mistaken.

But as always, Talanah's gut was right. 

Ligan greeted her at the door. “Talanah, you’re back! How was the hunt?”

“It was good exercise,” she said hurriedly, passing him the pouch of shards for the commission. “Where is Jandiniman?”

“Upstairs in the lounge, he’s already made the announce—” 

_No!_

Running as fast as her feet would take her, she found the Lodge’s historian sitting and calmly sipping at his chilled beverage. 

She took a deep breath to calm herself.

“Talanah, child, come and sit.” As serene as ever, except when the words were pouring out of his pen, Inquiring Jandiniman poured her a glass of the sweet malt and rice drink and gestured to the seat across him.

Despite her growing anxiety, Talanah thanked him and immediately drank deeply. Her panicked run had made her flushed and heated, and her worry didn’t help either.

She sat down, almost paralyzed by indecision. Half of her wanted to immediately ask him if her suspicions were true, and the other half remained in denial, fearing an answer to a question she also feared to simply ask.

As she warred with her instincts, Jandiniman took the pressure of choice away by presenting a scroll.

“Your copy, Sunhawk. I’m told the young ones like to display such in their homes. May it remind you of joyful times.”

Unrolling the parchment, neat glyphs in smooth strokes of machine ink and Avad’s seal of endorsement met her gaze:

_The Record of  
_ _Sunhawk Talanah Khane Padish  
_ _and  
_ _Thrush Aloy of the Nora, Machine Rider_

 _by Inquiring Jandiniman, Historian-In-Residence  
_ _at the Hunters Lodge of Holy Meridian_

 _In the summer of the third year of the reign_ _of_ _the Sun King Avad,_ _14th of the Line of Luminance, Hawk Talanah Khane Padish, daughter of Sunhawk Talavad Khane Padish, Thrush of Hawk Tarkas Khane Solaviy, did sponsor her own Thrush, Aloy of the Nora, Machine Rider._

_Together they soon felled Redmaw, most terrible of Thunderjaws, elevating Talanah Khane Padish to be the honored Sunhawk._

_Their fine partnership so blessed by the Sun’s favor, a Gift of Intention was offered by Thrush to her Hawk not long thereafter._

_Presented in front of the Lodge to Sunhawk Talanah Khane Padish was a most fine bow, meticulously handcrafted by the Thrush solely for the Sunhawk. The Lodge’s best artisans attest that both form and function were uniquely suited for the honor of the Sunhawk herself, and that the Thrush held her own bow of similar make._

_Fortunate is the last Khane Padish, who was born at dawn of the day with the longest night during the second year of the Mad King’s reign, to have found such dedication. In thanking her beloved Thrush, she took her hand and declared “You honor me,” before holding her chosen in a lover’s embrace._

_A great night of revelry was thus held at the Hunters Lodge, attended by its members and patrons._

_At the time of announcement, a day for the Rite of Binding has not been set._

She sat there wallowing in guilt, reading and rereading the words announced to the public a mere few hours ago.

It hadn’t even occurred to her that it would be interpreted like _this_ … 

Aside from misinterpreting ‘Gift of _Intention_ ’ and ‘ _lover’s_ embrace’, none of the details penned by Jandiniman had been lies or exaggerations. 

But Aloy _didn’t_ mean the bow as a Gift of Intention, she was sure!

She studied the bow again, noting the intricately carved bone guards reminiscent of her late mother’s surviving art pieces, the Carja symbols painted onto the dark wood, her familial colors on the feathers atop it — each detail deliberate and dripping with care.

Or did she?

Talanah shook her head and threw that thought out immediately. _Impossible._ Her friend was never really one for tradition, and frankly, neither was she. It was a thoughtful gift done with care and admiration — beautiful and unique, but just another kind gesture, not a Declaration.

The presentation of Gifts of Intention was a tradition so uncommon that her own parents didn’t follow. She’s only ever heard of it when minstrels sang the great Serana’s old ballads — in terms of ‘gentle beauties giving tokens of favor to men, fierce and glorious’ if she remembered how it went correctly.

Sun have mercy on her. How was she going to tell Aloy?

She sighed and put her head in her hands. Her ignorance and absence this morning might just cause waves in Carja politics, or even worse — ruin their friendship. How could she have let this happen?

It was clear that she needed to talk with Aloy before she acted. She respected Aloy too much to not let her make an informed decision, especially when it would affect both their reputations and not just her own.

But the hunter had just left last night — the day of her return still uncertain. Perhaps some advice would guide her well, while she waited.

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She needed to calm herself down.

“Jandiniman... I think there has been a misunderstanding.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> If you liked it, kudos and comments are very much welcome ^^  
> See you next chapter!


	4. Schemes and Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s... an attempt... to not complicate things. Vanasha’s trying, okay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In celebration of "Horizon II: Forbidden West" being confirmed, here's chapter 4 at 6.5k words :) I hope you enjoy it!

**Now:**

“And she didn’t _misunderstand_ your intentions?” Vanasha raises an eyebrow.

“No. She hugged me and said _very_ clearly, ‘Thank you, Aloy. You’re a great _friend_.’” Aloy emphasizes.

“Those exact words?” 

“Yes!” 

Aloy wouldn’t be forgetting _that_ soon. Or _ever._ The warmth and reassurance that she felt during her first hug from a friend was almost indescribable.

“And I was really happy,” she continues more quietly. “I thought that was it, I made a _friend_ and she hugged _me_ , _”_ she says, a little joyful wonder in her tone.

Aloy had her initial doubts in presenting the bow. It simmered in her gut during the way back to Meridian — something that only grew upon learning that Talanah had already repaired her father’s bow.

No matter how much care she had put into it, she had thought that the makeshift weapon she made to make up for not being able to afford a real Banuk-crafted bow was a little... _lacking_ in the face of the former Sunhawk’s legacy to his daughter.

So she bided her time, procrastinated the task of giving the bow through a lovely conversation, before finally taking a leap of faith at the last moment before she was set to leave for the Eclipse base.

As it turns out, she needn’t have worried at all. 

Talanah’s appreciation was clear and palpable. Her hands were tender as she soothed the little wounds Aloy got during the gift’s creation, and her embrace was incomparable in its gentle affection. 

The warmth of her acceptance and the sincerity of her gratitude was worth it all, and she’d take all the accidental cuts and scrapes on her hands, fight another Frostclaw in the freezing cold of The Cut, if it meant she got to see the sparkle of joy and wonder in Talanah’s eyes again.

Aloy smiles a little at the memory, before sobering. “I didn’t expect… any of this.”

Vanasha raises her hands in gentle placation. “I’m not doubting your account, little huntress. It’s just that the announcement from Lodge made it seem… truly romantic,” she drawled.

“They _announced_ it?!”

Vanasha stretches her arms as if she were just tired, but Aloy notices the fingers in her right hand curling in what seems to be a signal behind her. A young man immediately comes to take away their empty plates, replacing it with a bowl of tiny crisp bread pieces that seemed to have mashed berries as filling.

Hidden beneath the shadow of the bowl was a slightly crumpled scroll.

Aloy’s eyebrow rises, but Vanasha merely inclines her head towards it, wordlessly grabbing a pastry. With increasing hesitance, Aloy reaches to unroll it.

The parchment seems to have once been nailed to a board, based on the tiny rips along its top corners. What seemed to be the imprint of the stylized Sun from Avad’s crown sat beneath neat strokes of dried machine ink. The glyphs were similar enough to the written language that she grew up seeing through the Focus that even with the device still in her pouch she could read it:

_The Record of  
_ _Sunhawk Talanah Khane Padish  
_ _and  
_ _Thrush Aloy of the Nora, Machine Rider  
_ _by Inquiring Jandiniman, Historian-In-Residence  
_ _at the Hunters Lodge of Holy Meridian_

“A formal announcement? I- I don’t understand why…” Aloy’s brow furrows in confusion as she skims.

“...But it’s been two weeks and Talanah hasn’t commented on it yet? It’s not like her to…” she trails off and re-reads more carefully:

_In the summer of the third year of the reign of the Sun King Avad, 14th of the Line of Luminance, Hawk Talanah Khane Padish, daughter of Sunhawk Talavad Khane Padish, Thrush of Hawk Tarkas Khane Solaviy, did sponsor her own Thrush, Aloy of the Nora, Machine Rider._

_Together they soon felled Redmaw, most terrible of Thunderjaws, elevating Talanah Khane Padish to be the honored Sunhawk._

_Their fine partnership so blessed by the Sun’s favor, a Gift of Intention was offered by Thrush to her Hawk not long thereafter._

_Presented in front of the Lodge to Sunhawk Talanah Khane Padish was a most fine bow, meticulously handcrafted by the Thrush solely for the Sunhawk. The Lodge’s best artisans attest that both form and function were uniquely suited for the honor of the Sunhawk herself, and that the Thrush held her own bow of similar make._

_Fortunate is the last Khane Padish, who was born at dawn of the day with the longest night during the second year of the Mad King’s reign, to have found such dedication. In thanking her beloved Thrush, she took her hand and declared “You honor me,” before holding her chosen in a lover’s embrace._

_A great night of revelry was thus held at the Hunters Lodge, attended by its members and patrons._

_At the time of announcement, a day for the Rite of Binding has not been set._

Aloy stills as she reads, her expression growing unreadable. “She _did_ say that... and she _did_ hold my hand,” she begins. “But that was just because she noticed _these_.” Aloy raises her right hand and shows Vanasha the thin, pale marks. By now, they have healed nicely enough to seem like they won’t even scar. 

“This,” she taps the parchment once, “wasn’t her doing. I’m sure of it. She didn’t even make an announcement of her own ascension to Sunhawk.” 

Talanah had let the monstrous carcass of Redmaw — re-assembled piece by piece, spears still piercing its side and all — do the talking. She was more preoccupied with setting up the memorial to the Lodge’s Fallen and cleaning up the remnants of Ahsis’ corruption than useless basking and feasting.

A little more quietly, she adds, “And if she really were the one to allow this, she wouldn’t call me or let me be called Aloy _of the Nora_. Jandiniman must have taken liberties.”

Rolling the parchment back up, Aloy sighs. “I never expected the scale of this misunderstanding…” She rubs at her eye in exhaustion. Her body wants nothing more than to sleep, but she’s sure her mind won’t let her.

Restless, Aloy grabs a pastry and hesitantly bites into it. She lets the new taste distract her for a moment and finds that she likes the combination of sweetness and tartness.

“Neither did I. While I admit I sought you out to hear the engagement confirmed straight from the source, I certainly never imagined all of this was accidental. By the Sun, the way the circumstances just managed to line up so perfectly is nothing short of a miracle.” Vanasha laughs lightly and takes another pastry.

Were she in a better mood, Aloy might laugh too. She wishes she could. 

“So what mess did I get us into and how do I fix it? I don’t- What do I even _say_ to her?” Aloy puts her head in her hands. 

“What if she’s mad at me?” she says quietly, dreading even the thought.

Unseen by Aloy, Vanasha shakes her head.

“As you pointed out, the Sunhawk hasn’t denied the engagement. She also hasn’t been seen outside the Lodge for the same amount of time. It makes me think that she’s waiting to talk with you... or that Marad — or more likely, one of our people — talked with her already,” Vanasha deduces.

Aloy raises her head, a suspicious gaze focused directly at her. “What do you mean?”

“I promised you information, and information you shall have, but I ask that you listen completely first, as the situation is more complicated than it seems… Though I will, as you say, try to uncomplicate it,” she adds.

At Aloy’s cautious nod, Vanasha leans closer and meets her eyes. “Aloy, you already know what I am and how I serve Holy Meridian. I deal in information, as one of Avad’s Lightbearers under Blameless Marad. We walk in shadow and bring truth to light. We expose secrets to the Gaze of the Sun, His Radiance, and when the time is right, we act — much like our joint effort to bring back the Prince and his mother, a result of at least 2 years of work.”

“Imagine my surprise when I returned to the village and heard that the fierce little huntress I was _just_ on a boat with was soon marrying into the one of the oldest noble families in Meridian. The Lightbearers were already attempting to feel out the reactions of the nobility, but _you_ were still an unpredictable variable. So when they learned you had just accompanied me —”

Aloy tenses, immediately regretting oversharing. She must be more tired than she thought. 

“So _I’m_ your job now that Itamen and his mother are safe?” Her eyes instinctively dart around to the people near her, looking for weapons and gauging who is likely to attack first — if it ever came to it.

She knows Vanasha _isn’t_ intent on harming her — physically, at least — but it _was_ better to be ready. After all, she still bears the scar on her neck from the last time she let her guard down too soon.

Despite it being meal time, it isn’t that crowded in the area surrounding this local eatery, which leads her to believe that the nearest ones to them are mostly Vanasha’s people. She’s a little outnumbered, but no one has weapons visible. If it does come down to it, defense would be easily manageable.

There were children playing some sort of game on the street near the east exit, which means that if she needed to flee, the northern window was best. Harming children really didn’t seem like Vanasha’s style — she seemed outright fond of them, or of Itamen, at least — but better safe than sorry.

“Yes, it concerns you now,” Vanasha admits easily, posture relaxed as she takes another tiny pastry. “But out of respect and gratitude, I meet with you here in broad daylight, that we might first talk as equals... and hopefully, allies.”

Having been burned already by Sylens’ deceiving and self-serving nature, Aloy stays cautious, but her hands remain still on the table, noticeably away from her weapons. “As if this place isn’t already crawling with your people. You played that hand early,” she retorts, glancing to the now rolled up announcement.

“This place is one of our fronts, yes. Our little place to trade and gather information, but I give you my word — you will not be harmed, and neither will the Sunhawk. Our goals are very much aligned and will only be furthered by securing your safety.” Vanasha keeps her eyes on Aloy’s and both hands on the table.

Aloy glances quickly around the area, her own keen senses keeping track of movement around and behind her. She’d put her Focus back on, but to have Sylens potentially listening in on this was worse. 

Her eyes land on the pastries.

“And _no_ , I didn’t have your food poisoned,” Vanasha adds, catching her glance. “I would be offended, but I’m honestly glad you’re taking your safety seriously. Try to keep up the habit,” she teases to try and break the tension. She pointedly grabs another treat and takes a bite.

Aloy considers the spy in front of her with a critical eye. Unlike the faux Shaman, Vanasha has proven herself to have a willingness to communicate and a sense of honor that Aloy’s gut is inclined to trust. As evidenced by Vanasha’s efforts in the Tent City, her own compassion was at her core, too.

Time will tell if trusting her is a wise choice. For now, she waits.

The silence stretches between them, awkward and still tense, until with a sigh, Vanasha concedes. 

“Aloy, I know that trust is hard to invest in me right now, but please know that we both seek to help protect the People and that I do not wish to see anyone harmed. I owe you too much to ever be an obstacle in your way,” the Lightbearer vows.

“So if you won’t trust my word as my bond right now, then trust in the heavy debt I owe you. And I _always_ pay my debts, no matter how long it takes me.”

Aloy stays silent, choosing to send a questioning glance at Vanasha instead. She’s not saying a single word more that might be used against her.

“You freed Prince Itamen and Queen Nasadi,” she says simply in response, meeting her eyes directly. “You secured their safety, their _future_ under the protection of His Radiance Avad. As far as my own honor demands, I owe you so much _more_ than just information.” 

“...You care for them,” Aloy realizes.

“Deeply. Whenever Bahavas or Helis would threaten the queen for ‘coddling’ him, I hid Itamen, stifled his sobs against my chest. I _swore_ I would do _anything_ to keep them safe, to ensure that he grew up happy and loved, even if it meant giving up my life. But in the Sun’s mercy, _you_ walked right in when they needed you.”

“Not only do you kill Bahavas, rescue Uthid, and bring them back to Meridian, with your accidental gift, you may just help us ensure peace for this generation and the next, maybe even longer.”

Aloy’s shoulders slump. Heal the corruption at All-Mother Mountain, fight HADES, bring an end to the Derangement. So many things to do, all tangled together, and so little time. Apparently, she also has to add ‘keep the peace within a tribe she’s not part of’ to the list.

She won’t take the cowardly way out when there are people who need help, but really — just a break would be nice.

“And how did I stumble into _that?”_ she asks, feeling exhaustion creep even deeper into her bones. 

She rubs at her eye again, willing the urge to sleep away. She’s been going nonstop since yesterday morning, from fighting off mercenaries with Uthid, to battling machines and Eclipse to bring back Itamen. Now, it’s past noon and it looks like the day is only about to get longer.

Still, Aloy wills herself to listen.

“The engagement of the last Khane Padish to an outlander of skilled renown shifts the political balance of the Sundom to strengthen the Liberators over Those Who Abide!”

“Those Who Abide?” Aloy repeats blankly. 

“The followers of the Mad King who thrived within and exploited the chaos of the 13th’s reign for their own benefit. While a great many of them fled to Sunfall during the Liberation, many cowards pretended to have only been forced to follow the 13th out of fear. But their hardline views and intolerance of other tribes and women continue to stoke the fires of hatred and bigotry, to keep the roots of oppression planted like weeds that choke out the 14th’s new growth.”

“Mm. I’ve had the displeasure of meeting some of them.” There was Ahsis, Abiding Jahamin, Malesh, and the many civilians who still continue to glare and make derisive remarks as she walks past. It’s gotten better since her involvement with Dervahl’s capture, but still.

“No doubt. They run their mouths _far_ too much for any semblance of subtlety. But their poison grows deep beneath where even we can’t see, and the Line of Luminance is not as secure as we project it to be. I must ask for your patience, as the explanation is quite lengthy by necessity.”

Aloy nods, stifling a sigh of impatience. Being informed would only do her well.

“The Throne of Light currently has no heir apparent, only an heir presumptive — the 14th’s half-brother Itamen. Rescuing the Prince helped more than you think, but until Itamen has grown or until His Radiance Avad is married and has a son, the power of the Sun can still be jeopardized and stolen by… parties averse to His Radiance’s progressive rule.”

“Frankly, they have multiple options and the Lightbearers are keen to guard against what we can. Most obvious is to kill the 14th and Dowager Queen Nasadi, then install Itamen as their 15th puppet king, or if they _really_ wanted to throw the Sundom into chaos, kill all three of them and watch the land tear itself apart in the power vacuum. But that’s equally as destructive to Those Who Abide and to the Liberators, and thus unlikely to happen.”

“Okay,” Aloy says slowly, processing. “I _still_ don’t understand where I or Talanah come in.”

“His Radiance Nahasis — 10th of the Line of Luminance, father of Their Radiances Hivas and Marzid — had many daughters, most of whom passed during the Tenakth conflicts or never got the chance to have children themselves. But his youngest Alura, whom Nahasis had late in life with his sixth wife, went on to marry Talavad Khane Padish, bearing Brativin and Talanah.”

Aloy’s eyes widened. “So Talanah’s in line for the throne?”  
  
“Not exactly — as the priests say, ‘there has never been and never will be, a Sun Queen on the Throne of Light.’” Vanasha rolls her eyes.

Aloy’s head tilts. “So if Talanah’s brother also lived, _he_ would be recognized as part of the Line of Luminance?”

“Yes, as an adult male heir on the side of the Liberators, third in line to inherit the Throne of Light as His Radiance Nahasis’ grandson and His Radiance Avad’s first cousin, once removed. Any sons of noble birth that Brativin would have had would also be considered heirs, as would any sons of Talanah’s, though much farther down the line of succession than the King’s or Itamen’s future children will be.”

Aloy tenses, not liking where this was going at all. Her jaw clenches in restrained anger. “You’re not suggesting I put an end to this engagement just so Talanah can bear a son,” she says flatly, narrowed eyes practically daring Vanasha to see what happens if she did.

“No! Not at all. On the contrary, I’m hoping that you two would consider continuing the ruse and staying engaged until such a time that the 14th has a son, or even just until he’s married.”

“What?!”

“The Lightbearers have done the calculations. Any other nobleman within the Sundom that the Sunhawk can possibly hypothetically marry is either married already, too young, too old, and a host of other unsavory things. In the case of the 14th, a little too closely related.”

Vanasha and Aloy grimace at the same time.

“As the only other known link to the Radiant Line, we worry that she could be targeted by Those Who Abide — that they may suddenly position their own ‘satisfactory candidate’ through unsavory and dishonest means and then,” Vanasha gestures vaguely, “ _eliminate_ their risks, all in an effort to secure an Heir that they can raise and influence.”

“You’re worried they’ll somehow coerce Talanah into having a child and then kill her.” Aloy clenches her fist, bristling at the thought.

“Yes, to divide the legitimacy of power,” Vanasha grimly states.

Aloy frowns. “What makes you think that’s their plan?”

“Well, _I_ personally haven’t seen any indications that this is the game they want to play, but then again, I’ve been away for two years. I can certainly see why they would go for it, though. First, there’s precedent: Itamen himself, for one. His mother’s father wasn’t part of nobility, but he was an extremely wealthy merchant. Several years ago, the Sundom was struggling financially due to the Derangement affecting trade routes, not to mention Jiran’s own madness in financing the Red Raids and sacrificing slaves and the Carja working class. So the merchant used Nasadi and her considerable dowry to lure Jiran. Of course, he was never able to take advantage of it since he, too, was sacrificed shortly after Itamen’s birth. Others did, though.”

“Bahavas and Helis — they tried legitimizing their tyranny by pretending they had Itamen’s blessing as their Sun-King.”

“Something that, by the grace of the Sun, we were able to stop,” Vanasha agrees.

“Second, Talanah is… politically coveted, particularly now that she’s ascended to Sunhawk. Should she bear a son who would later ascend to the throne, a hypothetical husband from nobility then can easily influence the Hunters Lodge, take the Khane Padish fortune, and get extremely close to the Throne of Light as advisor to the new King.”

Aloy’s lip curls in disgust, offended on behalf of her friend. Talanah was _so much more_ than a means to an end, more than just a womb to bear an heir. She was a young woman who fought to carve her own path, who bled to restore her family’s legacy, who continues to push for progressiveness and equality in a male-dominated field. If she were to have a child, it should be by her own choice.

Talanah was clever, level-headed, courageous, hard-working, complex and bold, with an inner strength belied by her lean frame. Aloy certainly had faith that the Sunhawk’s discerning eyes and heart wouldn’t be fooled by any dunderhead nobleman that didn’t even share her values.

But Aloy also knows that selfish and insidious forces rarely considered the _willingness,_ or even the _lives_ , of others in the face of their plans to gain power. The memory of Rost and a whole generation of Nora Braves staining the snow red will forever serve as reminders.

So if anyone even _tries_ anything against Talanah, Aloy has a few choice arrows for their eyes — after Talanah herself is done with trouncing them, of course.

“Does she even know about this? Why now?”

“Well, I’ve been in Sunfall since the Liberation, so I wouldn’t know how things were these past two years, but at a guess? Those Who Abide, and perhaps to some extent even the Lightbearers, didn’t give her much thought as they had been operating with the impression that hunters whose main goal was to defeat Redmaw didn’t normally live for very long,” Vanasha says gently. “Of course, that’s a moot point now — thankfully — but back then, her untimely death was almost expected. However, now that the situation has changed, it presents certain possibilities, certain avenues of exploration for people who would seek to seize power.”

Aloy snorts bitterly. “Typical that men would underestimate her skills, then — when she inevitably succeeds — find ways to take advantage.”

“Indeed. For all of the Sundom’s claims of enlightenment on the basis of its origins, its ideological history is fraught with men in power stepping on the backs of others, and even over bodies, for more power. But that’s exactly what we’re trying to change.”

Vanasha leans closer. “The Sun-King may not be perfect — and I’m aware that’s already as close to heresy I can get — but years more of his reign, and a like-minded heir, and we can set the foundations for lasting peace. We just need more time, and something to publicly symbolize the hope for a new era — a decoy, if you will.”

Aloy blinks. “A… decoy? Us?”

Vanasha nods. “After the Mad King’s slaughter… and even after all the lives lost during the Liberation itself, the Lightbearers are spread thin — keeping our eyes on Sunfall, our ears to the ground for internal and external threats, our shields at the borders defending Meridian, our blades raised to keep the Royal family protected — we’re pleading with you to buy us more time. Keep _their_ _eyes_ on _you_ , so we have the space to do what is needed.”

Aloy stares in disbelief. “Just how will the two of us be a ‘symbol of hope’? Just walking around Meridian, people are already half-likely to sneer at me for being a ‘savage Nora’ or give Talanah one of those insults they somehow think are compliments like, ‘Oh, a _female_ Sunhawk? At least you were born _noble_ ,’” Aloy mocks, just a hint of spite coloring her tone.

Aloy shakes her head. “Look, whatever small amount of goodwill we’ve already built up — even _if_ Talanah and I did agree to fake this… I don’t think it’s going to be enough for whatever you have planned.”

“The other Lightbearers can work to ease that up. Some whispers here, some echoes there — with some more time, it wouldn’t be hard for them to lessen the undeserved negativity around your names and highlight the good you’ve done. Your own actions make it easy, especially now that your involvement with the Prince’s return has gone public.”

Seeing that Aloy remains unconvinced, Vanasha continues, “I’ve said it before, Aloy: you are exceptional in the eyes of the Sundom. Your marriage — or the illusion of an impending one — to the Sunhawk of the Lodge, a prominent Liberator, the last of a celebrated bloodline, brings hope. With the two of you becoming the public faces of a new partnership between the Carja and the other tribes affected by the Raids, fighting side by side against machines and for reforms, your union becomes bigger than just the sum of your parts.”

Aloy searches Vanasha’s eyes, cautious for hints of deception, but Vanasha meets her gaze with confidence and conviction. 

“A union like that is a powerful _statement,_ Aloy — one that lends strong support to the 14th’s message of Carja unity and peace among tribes. It’s also a deterrent for anyone of ill intent who might seek to marry into the Khane Padish clan; after all, very few sane men would fight against the famed machine rider or the Sunhawk, both of whom felled Redmaw.”

“If the Mad King relied on his Champion Helis’ brutish cruelty and Bahavas’ manipulation of faith to flaunt his power, then we ask that you two would continue your own examples and show the Sundom a better path under the 14th’s reign: the Sunhawk’s drive for progress and openness to judge on one’s merit rather than the station of one’s birth, and your own bravery and compassion to make the community better for everyone, especially the common folk.”

Aloy remains silent, drawing her eyes away from Vanasha’s and across the sunny mesa, deep in thought.

After a long moment of consideration, she purses her lips. “...There’s one other person you should be talking to, you know. Not just me.”

“I would be very willing to answer questions from you and the Sunhawk,” Vanasha offers. ”Perhaps after you two have had your own conversation about this, though. I still have my own information to gather from the Lightbearers. I’ve only just gotten back from Sunfall and I have a lot left to learn about the situation in Meridian.”

“...So what exactly are you asking of us?”

“It’s mostly buying the Lightbearers time to root out Those Who Abide. Be seen in public together, draw the enemy’s attention away from the investigation. At the very least, please don’t deny that the engagement is real — that’s like drawing a target for an Oseram weapon.”

Aloy pinches the bridge of her nose, feeling the ache start to build in her head. The lack of sleep, the numerous fights, and this huge amount of information to process — all of it is taking its toll.

The awkward silence remains between them. Aloy switches to rubbing her temples. As futile as the attempt is, the headache continues.

For an attempt to breach the silence, heavier by the second, Vanasha starts, “For the past two weeks, the Lightbearers were under the impression that your engagement was real —”

“They still shouldn’t have meddled!” Aloy snaps.

“I know they shouldn’t have, and I know it isn’t as easy as I make it out to be, Aloy.” Vanasha raises her arms placatingly.

“And I really am sorry to put this on you and the Sunhawk. I know your war isn’t over yet, and it’s a lot to put on someone’s plate. But for what it’s worth, I do believe that this really could help make peace last. Neither an all-out war or having Those Who Abide slither deeper into the foundations of this City can be allowed. This ruse… it won’t be easy, but it will buy us time and opportunity to do our jobs. Please — at least tell me you’ll think about it.”

Aloy sighs. Politics, appearances, the balance of power — she’s not built for this, and she doesn’t want it.

She almost can’t believe it, but — to a degree — Aloy misses the peace that being an outcast afforded her. 

“I’m not promising anything,” she warns, standing up to leave. “I’ll talk with Talanah first, and we’ll talk with Avad. Then, _and only then_ , will the two of us decide if it’s truly worth lying to the entire Sundom.”

“That’s all I can ask. I can assure you that none of us will force either of you on this, and that if anyone else thinks that this choice isn’t yours, they’ll have me to face,” Vanasha promises.

She reaches a hand out to Aloy. “Thank you for hearing me out.” 

With only slight hesitation, Aloy takes it and shakes it once. “Thanks for… telling me, I guess.” She rubs the back of her neck awkwardly. “This was… hard to get through, but I’d rather be informed.”

“I know that what I asked you on behalf of the Sundom is… a lot to handle. We, I, owe you a lot. If you ever need aid, just call upon me. I will gladly come.”

“As a debtor or as a friend?”

Vanasha meets her eyes and smiles. "A debtor for now. But it would be an honor to earn being called the latter.”

* * *

  
Solid, rhythmic taps on the heavy wooden door of Talanah’s office breaks her train of thought. 

“I’ll be right down, Ligan,” she calls out distractedly, eyes firmly trained on the new reports before her. The Valleymeet Hunting Grounds is consistently losing more shards than it should and presenting less sun marks to even less hunters. Even the merchant stationed there hasn’t had much success. Accepting trophies could wait just a little longer while she reads some more about this conundrum.

“I was actually hoping we could talk in there?” A hesitant voice rings out, a bit muffled behind wood.

Talanah’s eyes widen, and she nearly knocks over her ink well in her haste to stand up and greet the guest at her door.

The young hunter at her doorway still has her arm up from knocking and lets it down slowly. A shy little half-smile upturns her lips upon seeing Talanah, her tired eyes brightening at the sight.

Okay. Aloy doesn’t _look_ mad at her. That was… good. Right?

“Aloy! You're back,” Talanah greets her with a smile, nervous but nonetheless very pleased to see her again after two weeks. Her eyes are immediately drawn to the bandages around her friend’s stomach, side beginning to darken with blood again. 

Talanah’s brow furrows in concern. “You’re hurt… come sit, let me change those bandages.”

“I’m fine,” Aloy waves her off. “It looks like you’re busy, anyway. I can come back —”

“No, please. All of that,” she gestures to her desk absently, “can wait. I haven’t seen you in two weeks, and I was worried you’d be hurt. Please let me do this for you?”

At Talanah’s pleading look, Aloy easily relents. “Okay.”

As Aloy sits down on the ornately carved long bench near the window, Talanah searches her cabinets for supplies, quickly bringing them out and cleaning her hands in the washroom.

She sits down next to her, and at Aloy’s nod, starts taking off the bandages. 

Talanah inhales sharply at the sluggishly bleeding horizontal cut just under Aloy’s ribs. While not that deep, its position meant that nearly every movement from the young hunter would make the wound stretch, inimical to her healing. 

“Looks like Sunfall brought trouble after all. Can I ask what happened?” she asks as she begins to clean around the wound with a wet cloth.

“A friendly neighborhood Thunderjaw — you know how they are,” Aloy jokes even as she winces.

“All I heard was that you snuck the Prince and Queen Nasadi out of the palace. How did that end up with you fighting a _Thunderjaw_?” 

Aloy shakes her head.

“Vanasha, a Lightbearer undercover in Sunfall — she snuck them out. Worked for two years to get them back here. I was just… the contingency plan.” Aloy shrugs with one shoulder, careful to keep her injured side still.

Carefully, Talanah disinfects the area with ochrebloom oil. “You don’t have to play down your role in that, Aloy. Sounds like _you_ did the heavy lifting, after all.”

“I guess. The pass where she was set to take them through, it had a Rockbreaker settled in. And when that was taken care of, Eclipse showed up with corrupted machines, including a Thunderjaw. They weren’t exactly happy that we were bringing Itamen home.”

Gently pressing some dried salvebrush leaves to help the blood clot faster, Talanah re-bandages the wound.

Talanah smiles at Aloy. “Sounds like you made your Hawk very proud!” 

“Yeah?” Her Thrush grins back, eyes brightening a little bit more. Aloy's joy was evident at the rarely shown appreciation for her work. “You really think so?”

“I _know_ so. You use your strength to help others. That kind of conviction behind compassion is admirable and I really am proud of you.”

For a moment, everything is perfect. Aloy smiles brightly at her — a rare sight for anyone else. The ever present stiff tension on the younger hunter’s shoulders wasn’t there as she leans back on the bench.

But inevitably, the moment breaks. Aloy’s smile fades, and the weight of the world is back on her shoulders once again. She looks away from Talanah, apprehensive and nervous. 

“Listen, I… need to talk to you about something,” Aloy begins clumsily. 

Talanah bites her lip, willing her courage to come to the surface. “Is this about the engagement?”

Aloy meets her eyes and nods. 

Silence reigns for a short moment, both of them anxious and unsure how to proceed. 

“I’m sor-”

“I’m sor-”

Their mouths shut with a barely audible click.

A little embarrassed, Aloy gestures with her hand and asks Talanah to go first.

After a moment of hesitation, Talanah shakes her head. “...I do want us to talk about this, but first, are you sure you’re up for it?” 

She lightly touches the back of her hand to Aloy’s forehead, checking for illness. “You’re tired and pale… When was the last time you slept?” The bags under Aloy’s eyes are still dark, and despite the harshness of the Sun in the Shadow Carja lands, the pallor of her cheeks didn’t quite reflect that.

Aloy shakes her head and dodges the question. “I’ve been out for two weeks not even knowing about all of this. I need to make up for lost time; it’s important.”

“It is, but your health is more important to me.” Meeting her eyes, Talanah gently brings her hand to Aloy’s shoulder. 

“Aloy, you’ve been running yourself ragged lately, even before this. I know how important your mission is for you, but your body and your mind both have to be in peak condition for you to be safer — for you to act decisively, to think clearly… and we have to... decide on something later, don’t we?” she gives her a nervous look.

At Aloy’s glum nod, she continues, “I think it would be better if you were also well-rested for this conversation, that’s all. Please, Aloy. Rest and heal up. You’re my friend and I worry about you.”

Without any more fuss aside from a sigh, the tired hunter acquiesces. “All right, then.”

“Come on, you can take the bed.” Talanah inclines her head toward the Sunhawk’s adjoining quarters and opens the door for Aloy.

“It’s not much,” Talanah admits, “but it’s clean and comfortable.”

With both of them having spent years catching sleep on the ground or on thick tree branches, neither of them really minded, though.

There was a single, neat wooden bed, utilitarian and practical, with undyed Carja silks and linens on it, and not much else. A big window kept sunlight and a nice breeze flowing into the moderately sized room, but the shelves were all empty of books and other personal effects. Two crates of presumably Ahsis’ belongings were packed in the corner.

As she steps further into the room, Aloy couldn’t help but blurt out what had been bothering her since she learned about the engagement.

“...You’re not mad at me, are you?”

“No! By the Sun, no.” Talanah laughs a little, incredulous. She almost can't believe that she spent weeks worrying about Aloy being mad at _her_ , when it turns out her friend was worried about the opposite. 

“It was a really thoughtful gift, Aloy. No matter what, I’m grateful for it, for you. The bow is such a joy to use — not just because it’s really well-made, but because it’s a reminder that I don’t fight alone anymore, and it’s been… quite a long time since I had someone who cared enough about me for _me.”_

Eyes unguarded in the privacy of the room, a warm and comforting moment of understanding passes between the two of them.

“Are you mad at me for reacting like I did?” Talanah tentatively breaks the silence.

“Not at all!” Aloy rushes to assure her. “It was… really nice,” she admits a little more quietly, unconsciously drawing her own arms around her. “I was really glad to know that you were happy with my work. It’s... strange to think that it’s been misinterpreted so strongly, but in the moment, I just felt elated and encouraged.”

“I am sorry, though. If I had just swallowed my fear and gave the bow while we were still at the balcony…” Aloy trails off and averts her eyes, hesitant and uncertain.

“Hey, no. If you consider that your fault, then I’m at fault, too. It’s my culture, I should’ve known,” she points out.

“That’s not — I don’t blame you, Talanah.”

“And _I_ don’t blame _you._ ” Talanah smiles, eyes gentle as she reassures Aloy, “Look, what happened — it’s done. Neither of us expected or intended the others’ reactions, and neither of us is at fault.”

Seeing that Aloy still looked bothered, Talanah slowly moves closer and asks, “May I hug you?”

She had just barely opened her arms before Aloy was already sinking into the warmth of her embrace.

“I was really scared that you were angry with me,” Aloy mutters quietly into her shoulder, unused to such vulnerability but thoroughly relieved by the contact.

“I was scared you’d get mad at me, too,” Talanah admits as she instinctively strokes Aloy’s hair in comfort. “When I read the announcement the next day, I felt responsible. I was scared that I ruined our friendship over something I should’ve been there to stop.”

Aloy hugs her tighter and shakes her head, silently reminding her of her own words just seconds before — neither of them is at fault.

After a few more moments of drawing comfort and assurance from each other, Talanah gently pulls back from the hug and puts both of her hands on Aloy’s shoulders, tender with her touch but firm with her support. “Rest well, okay?” 

“We’ll talk more later and deal with this together, once you’re refreshed. I promise.” Her eyes remain kind and reassuring, letting Aloy feel more at peace.

With a final smile, Talanah steps back and closes the door.

Aloy wearily removes her shoes and crawls under the covers. She's exhausted to the bone. For the first time since yesterday morning, she finally closes her eyes for more than a blink, asleep before her head touches the pillow. 

They’ll deal with this later — together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this and want more, please let me know with kudos/comments. :)


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